


in our house made of paper

by nifeandaccurate (12AM)



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Gen, Limbo, Multi, and someone panicking, warnings for potential drowning and the threat of losing grip on reality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 13:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5627644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/12AM/pseuds/nifeandaccurate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something goes wrong and they're washed up on the shores of limbo. No one's coming after them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in our house made of paper

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr [here](http://nifeandaccurate.tumblr.com/post/116756204725/arthursaito-and-47-arthurarieames-and-17) for velificantes and the prompt "Arthur/Ariadne/Eames, 'Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…'"

 

She fights against the waves that drag her body back towards the ocean, limbs heavy with cold and clothes weighed down. Washed up against the shore, the rough grit of sand clings to her skin. Pushing herself up, away from the water, away from the clinging wetness that brought her here, she looks around desperately for other signs of life. If something went wrong, if they didn’t follow her down and ended up somewhere else instead—

“Eames!” she calls out, scanning the shoreline. She yells his name again, frantic. Scanning the waves, she makes to pace the area but slumps over, hands on her knees as her body threatens to fold over. When she spots the wet shape half-out of the tide, she pulls herself up and rushes forward. With shaking hands, she pulls him up, out. He clings to her, hands warm against her arms, and says, “Arthur, where is Arthur? He has to be here—”

A heartbeat later and they see him, a dark shape surfacing underneath the waves. Together, they hurry towards him and pull him ashore. He wheezes for air in their arms, thrashing, and Eames runs a hand down his back until the panic leaves his eyes. They say nothing as they try to breathe warmth back into themselves. The ocean is cold and unforgiving. Eames lays an arm across each of their shoulders and they lean against one another, seeking what comfort they can. Ariadne feels as if she’ll never get away from the sand sticking to her skin and the smell of salt water.

Huddled together, they sit in the sand and stare out back into the dark waters. No one else is following them down. No one will be coming to pull them out.

“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while,” Arthur says dully.

 

One night, the thought of spending forever in this godforsaken place stirs up panic in her heart and it’s all too much. She leaves the house without shoes on and her totem curled in her hand, walking to face the ocean again. She stands just beyond the tide, bare toes curling in the sand.  With a burst of movement, she hurls her totem out into the sea. She can’t hear the splash it makes over the hammering of her heart.

She walks back to the house in silence. She wipes off the sand from her feet on the doorstep and then crawls back into bed in between Arthur and Eames and sleeps fitfully.

The next day, she wakes up alone and clutching something in her hand. Her cheeks are still damp with tears that taste like the sea when she unfurls her fingers with dread, already bracing herself to see the familiar chrome of her bishop.  

She’s not ready to lose herself to limbo but it’s getting harder to hold on.

 


End file.
